Speechless, I watched as the tiny dog made it to my feet and began licking my toes.
“Aww, he likes you.” She set her glass onto the coffee table and sank down on her knees, reaching out to rub the puppy’s silky head.
Confused, I looked around and noticed what I hadn’t before. The duffel bag Raúl had carried in had ventilation mesh on the top and sides.
“Oh my God, you should see your face!” Eva laughed and picked up the dog, rising to her feet. She took my glass and shoved the puppy at me instead.
I caught the squirming bundle of fur because I had no choice, arching my head back when it started licking madly at my face. “I can’t have a puppy.”
“Sure you can.”
“I don’t want a puppy.”
“Sure you do.”
“Eva … No.”
She took my wine to the sofa and sat, curling her legs beneath her. “Now the penthouse won’t feel so empty until I move in.”
I stared at her. “I don’t need a dog. I need my wife.”
“Now you have both.” She drank from my glass and licked her lips. “What will you name him?”
“I can’t have a puppy,” I repeated.
Eva looked at me serenely. “He’s an anniversary gift from your wife, you have to keep him.”
“Anniversary?”
“We’ve been married a month.” She leaned back into the sofa and gave me the fuck-me look. “I was thinking we could go to the beach house and celebrate.”
I readjusted my hold on the wriggling dog. “Celebrate how?”
“All access.”
I was hard instantly, something she didn’t fail to notice.
Her gaze darkened as it caressed my erection where it tented my pants. “I’m dying, Gideon,” she breathed, her lips and cheeks flushing pink. “I wanted to wait, but I can’t. I need you. And it’s our anniversary. If we can’t make love then and have it be just you, me, and what we have—with no bullshit—then we can’t make love ever and I don’t believe that’s true.”
I stared at her.
Her lips curved wryly. “If that makes any sense at all.”
The puppy licked my jaw frantically and I hardly noticed, my attention focused on my wife. She just kept surprising me, in all the best ways. “Lucky.”
Her head tilted to the side. “What?”
“That’s his name. Lucky.”
Eva laughed. “You’re a fiend, ace.”
By the time Eva went home, I had new dog crates in my bedroom and home office, and fancy water and feed bowls in my kitchen. Puppy food in an airtight plastic storage container sat in my pantry, and plush dog beds took up space in every room in the house. There was even a patch of fake grass, which supposedly Lucky would urinate on—when he wasn’t relieving himself on my priceless rugs, as he’d done not long ago.
All the items, including treats, toys, and enzymatic sprays for accidents, had been left waiting in the foyer outside the elevator, telling me that my wife had enlisted Raúl and Angus in her plan to foist a pet on me.
I stared at the puppy, who sat at my feet, looking up at me with soft, dark eyes filled with something akin to adoration. “What the hell am I supposed to do with a dog?”
Lucky’s tail wagged so hard, his back end shifted from side to side along with it.